In Dreams & Denial
by luluvee
Summary: How bad is an obsession when your dreams are better than reality? A contest entry for the Obsession One-Shot Contest.


**Obsession One-Shot Contest**

**Title**: 'In Dreams & Denail'

**Penname**: luluvee

**Rating**: M

**Disclaimer**: Any and all publicly recognizable characters, settings, lyrics, writings, etc. are the property of their respective owners/creators. Any and all original content is property of the author, who, in this case, happens to be me. In other words, I don't own Twilight, I just manipulate SM's characters into bastardized versions of themselves.

**Summary**: How bad is an obsession when your dreams are better than reality? A contest entry for the Obsession One-Shot Contest.

**Song Prompt**: "_Possession_" by Sarah McLachlan

**Lyrical Inspiration**: "_Into this night I wander/It's morning that I dread/Another day of knowing of/The path I fear to tread/Oh, into the sea of waking dreams/I follow without pride/Nothing stands between us here/And I won't be denied_"

.oO(***)Oo.

_"Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward; to love and to cherish; for better and for worse; for richer and for poorer; in sickness and in health as long as you both shall live?"_

_"I do." The emphatic confidence he placed in those two small words made her heart skip a beat as he looked her proudly in the eye. As the minister went on, he mouthed an 'I love you,' which she tearfully returned._

_"Now do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward; to love and to cherish; for better and for worse; for richer and for poorer; in sickness and in health as long as you both shall live?"_

_"I do." She said them in reply to his own short vow, a happy, breathy whisper that conveyed every single emotion in her soul- all the love she felt for this man that could not be contained inside of her._

_"And now for the rings, please," Father McLaughlin continued, his solemnly monotone voice blending into the background as she shared a happy smile with the man she loved. He squeezed her hand gently, the twinkle in his impossibly blue eyes setting her heart aflutter._

_"Now, if the groom," the priest said, interrupting their silently loving exchange as he handed the groom a ring, "could repeat after me. With this ring..."_

_"With this ring…"_

_"I thee wed…"_

_"I thee wed…"_

_"With my body…"_

_"With my body…"_

_"I thee honor…"_

_"I thee honor…_

_"And all my worldly goods…"_

_"And all my worldly good…"_

_"With thee I share."_

_"With thee I share._

_"This is the promise I make to you."_

_"This is the promise I make to you."_

_As the ring slipped snugly onto the appropriate finger, she tried her damndest to suppress the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. But before she could concentrate on just how right the weight of true gold felt upon her finger, Father McLaughlin held his palm out to her, the large golden circle laying there for her to take._

_"The bride, if you'll repeat after me," he said kindly, beginning the ring exchange process all over again._

_She knew the words were rolling off her tongue but she didn't hear them. In her head it was just the two of them, happily married after so many years of waiting- waiting to be noticed, waiting for each other, waiting for the right time, waiting for so many inconsequential things._

_"… You may kiss the bride!" Both bride and groom looked taken aback- when had the ceremony finished?_

_"Finally," he breathed as he looked at her, her cheeks burning into a blush at the sheer longing in his eyes. His large hands cradled her face gently and his face- his beautiful, gorgeous face- loomed closer and closer. She couldn't take her eyes off him even if she wanted to._

_Finally his lips touched hers and she melted against him. The kiss firmed into something more than chaste but the catcalls from their friends and family didn't deter either of them. His tongue brushed lightly against her bottom lip and she moaned quietly as the whole world melted away once again._

_Suddenly, they were in their honeymoon suite at the hotel. The sky outside was twinkling with the light of hundreds of stars, the sound of music and the enjoyment of the reception coming from below. _All over so soon?_ she thought, barely remembering any part of the wedding reception. But in the next moment everything was driven from her mind by the simple touch of his finger as it brushed along the length of her arm._

_"Since the moment I first laid eyes on you, I've dreamt of this moment," he whispered, moving behind her and slowly pulling out the pins that were holding up her hair, discarding them on the floor. "I dreamed of making love to you with you as my wife. Mine, for the rest of the world to know it."_

_She let out a whimper, mentally begging him to finish with her hair and get her out of the dress so he could finally act on his words. But the golden bobbypins slowly fell to the floor like the lightest of flurries in the calmest of November._

_"I still can't believe it, you know," he sighed, the warmth of his breath washing over her shoulder tantalizingly, causing her skin to erupt in goosebumps. "I still can't believe that you wanted me, that you said yes, and that you said 'I do.'"_

_"I could never deny you," she replied in a breathless whisper. She groaned in satisfaction when she felt the long, loose curls of her hair fall against her nape and back. Another moan escaped her at the anticipation of things to come._

_There were no more words as he bent forward and unbuttoned the delicate button of the halter strap behind her neck. He proceeded to place slow, deliberate kisses on her shoulder blades, alternating between left and right, down her spine until he reached the low back of the dress. She felt the zipper slide slowly and he placed two final kisses on the small dimples that preceded the curve of her bum. She heard him stand and opened her eyes when she sense him in front of her._

_"I will worship you until the day I die," he told her, dipping down to kiss her on the mouth as he peeled the white satin and lace from her body. This kiss was different than the one they shared earlier. Where that had been joyous, giving as much as receiving, this kiss was triumphant, almost proprietary. But she didn't mind- she belonged to him just as much as he finally belonged to her._

_She felt the formfitting silk pull away from her skin as it fluttered lightly down her body. His arms encircled her, pulling her against his chest as his mouth disengaged from her lips and descended down her jaw to her neck._

_"So beautiful," she felt him whisper and the heat of a blush ran through her whole body. He repeated the kisses from her back down her front: a trail alternating down each side of her throat, down her chest, her breasts receiving extra loving attention. His tongue darted out as he took a hardened nipple between his teeth and a shiver of pleasure shot up her spine, out to the very tips of her toes and fingers._

_His journey continued, lips brushing back and forth across her stomach and leading down to the tiny, thin band of her white g-string. He stopped and she looked down when his movements ceased to continue and found his bright blue eyes waiting to focus on her own. With their eyes locked, he took the little white string in his teeth and pulled it down over her hips and thighs. Once past her knees it floated down to the heap where her dress lay._

_He grinned up at her before pushing his face into her sex, lips kissing her clitoris once before lifting her up in his arms and carrying her swiftly over to the bed. Openmouthed kisses found their way on to her skin and she basked in them as he laid her down gently on top of the covers. As she lounged against the sateen duvet, he skimmed his nose across her skin, tongue dipping playfully in her navel before insistent kisses made their way to her smooth mound._

_There was no hurry as his tongue caressed her lower lips, lapping up the sweetest of her juices as she moaned and writhed above him. Her breathing sped, transforming into wanton pants and he took that as a sign to take things further. The fingers of his right hand danced along the skin of her inner thigh before two of them plunged into her hot wetness. His lips then concentrated on pleasuring the bundle of nerves that crowned her sex and in no time at all her back was arching sharply as the ribbons of pleasure within her body snapped and she came with his name screaming from her lips._

_With a satisfied smile on his face he slowed his ministrations and licked erratic paths up her skin until he was kissing her again. His mouth tasted of her but she didn't mind, her tongue tangling with his as he positioned himself above her, his erection twitching eagerly against her still sensitive skin. Slowly but with purpose, he pressed into her, filling her in a way she never thought possible, making her feel more complete that she had ever felt in her life._

_"God, I love you," he sighed as his hips rested flush against hers._

_"I love you, too," she whispered back, tilting her hips to take him even deeper. They both groaned with pleasure at her action and he began to move._

_His tongue lavished her nipples as they moved together on the sheets, tasting them and torturing them delightedly as he stroked in and out of her body at a strong, measured pace. She could feel her body winding towards orgasm again and her fingers stroked his hair, urging him on, begging to bring them both to completion. He picked up his pace, hips pistoning against hers and she threw her head back as the sensation of him overwhelmed her senses. He picked up her legs and wrapped them tight around his waist and that was all she needed to spiral into the sweet oblivion only he could bring._

.oO(***)Oo.

It was crazy. Stupid, even.

But she just couldn't help it.

She found herself waking up in the mornings with her body drenched in sweat from the startlingly and realistically erotic dreams she'd have of _him_ during the night. Her breath would catch in her throat every time she'd close her eyes to recall the exact details of her nocturnal escapades.

Some nights it was the very clichéd 'Prince Charming riding in on a white horse to save the day' scenario. He'd be dressed in an ornately embroidered and immaculately white (or sometimes soft blue) suit, something obviously so regal that there was no denying that he were the hero to save the day. He'd come save her from the wicked witch (or bitch, as was the case in reality) of a step-mother and whisk her away, off into the sunset and over the horizon.

Other nights he would be the devastatingly handsome rebel bad boy, stealing her away from her boring life with a boring husband and boring job to a new and exciting place where they'd change their names and rob banks by day.

No matter what the dreams were about they always ended the same: with her in a hot, sweaty ball of _alone_ and her room reeking of sex despite it being of the self-induced variety.

Sighing as she recalled the details of the latest dream, she forced herself out of bed and into the bathroom. Fantasies- of which she had many- could wait; reality- in the form of a demanding but fulfilling job- couldn't.

After her shower she dressed carefully. Since she had met _him_, she had found herself straddling several different lines when it came to her workday attire. Heels, while preferred for their sexy appeal, were just not a feasible choice of footware to be running after children all day. Same was to be said of skinny jeans. And her tops could not be low cut lest she give off the impression of being a tart or somehow imply a sense of availability to one of the other fathers (single or not) who would come in the mornings or afternoons.

There was only _one_ single father in her head that she had eyes for.

But back to her current dilemma. She couldn't get away with wearing more makeup than the clear lipgloss she donned before leaving the house in the mornings; her precious little charges would make sure that all traces of the stuff would have disappeared by noon, what with the paint slinging and the cheesy-fingered smears that would inevitably find their way on her skin. All that left her were frumpy sweaters, baggy trousers, and tops that left everything (and then some) to the imagination.

_Oh, but not today,_ she thought to herself triumphantly as she donned some of her sexiest underwear- a pair of hot pink lace cheekies with little black bows adorning the hips and the matching demi bra. Hell, if she couldn't _look_ sexy, she might as well still try and feel it.

Pawing through the hangers of _can't_s,_ I wish_es, _certainly not_s, and _not even if I were dead_s, a pair of sleek black pleat-front trousers caught her eye. Demurely sexy and understated enough to look sophisticatedly casual. _Perfect_. She pulled them out and laid them on the bed, turning back to peruse her closet for a top to complete the ensemble. Another run through the gamut of Unacceptable brought her to the very back of her closet where her old high school uniforms hung in a large laundry storage bag that hadn't seen the light of day in ten years. A quick glance at her alarm clock gave her permission to duck into the bag with a nostalgic smile.

The smell of Tommy Hilfiger's _Tommy Girl _mixed with Clinique's _Happy_ clouded her nose as the zipper of the garment bag was pulled to the floor. She smiled wryly as she remembered alternating the two scents on a daily basis because they were her favorites and she could never truly decide which trumped the other in her heart.

The tasseled fringe of the St. Ignatius pleated plaid kilt called to her and she fingered the loose threads longingly. Back then her only worry was of stringing along doucebag extrordinaire (she was young and impressionable, could you blame her?) Matthew Jones and wondering if she could get away with hiking her skirt up another two inches. _Oh, the simple day_s, she mused with a giggle.

Delving past the sea of plaid, she saw various cardigans, sweaters, vests, and pullovers, all proudly emblazoned with the St. Ignatius emblem on the left of the chest. These were met with a rueful shake of the head and she surmised to herself that a shopping trip for a Halloween costumed would not be needed come October. As she poked deeper through the itchy wools and wash-worn fleeces, she came upon a veritable jackpot.

Her old, white button-downs.

_Cha-ching._

Triumphantly pulling one from it's hiding place in the black hole that was her closet, she hung it up on the wardrobe door and regarded it with a scrutinizing eye. It was a plain cotton, crisp white, pleated placket, French collar shirt with shiny enamel white buttons, familiar to her as if she had worn it just yesterday. What made it stand out to her today, though, was it's simplicity. All her existing button-downs hanging from the closet rod were too dressy- silks, satins, ruffles, bright colors. This shirt though, was perfect in it's simplicity. It would be perfect to impress _him_ today, the man literally of her dreams. _Now to see if it fits_.

She shrugged on the shirt, glad she had pulled out one with short sleeves, and buttoned it, hoping against hope that it fit. Though tighter around the bust than she remembered, it fit her snugly, which made her grin explode into an all out smile. The pants followed, the fashionable high waist making it apparant that the shirt was to be tucked, and she accessorized with a thick shiny patent leather red belt, matching red peeptoe flats, and her small diamond stud earrings. She finished off her look by pulling her long blonde hair into a side ponytail, the sweep bang held out of her eyes with a shiny red barette.

Taking inventory of her person in the mirror, she was delighted at what she saw. _Alright boys, eat your hearts out_.

And with that she was out the door.

The drive to work was quite quick, the commute made especially fast by her excellent mood (brought on not only by her style-infused confidence but by the cute barista boy bestowing upon her a cranberry-orange scone for free!) and she was flattered when more heads than usual turned her way as she climbed out of her car in the school parking lot.

"G'morning, Rose!" Edward Masen, the instrumental music teacher, greeted as he exited the silver Volvo parked beside her. "Looking good this morning."

"When do I ever not?" she shot back cheekily with a playful grin.

"Touché," he laughed, toasting her with his travel mug. "Dress up for anyone special today?"

"The most special person I know." _His_ face flashed through her head but she didn't miss a beat of hers and Edward's playful banter. "Me."

They shared another laugh before parting ways: Edward was headed into the intermediate/senior block of buildings, whereas she turned left towards the kindergarten/junior wings.

'Good mornings' and 'hellos' were tossed her way by her collegues and she returned them all as she made her way through the hallways to her classroom. Glad that she had set everything up the afternoon before, she went about writing the date on the blackboard and setting out the piles of graded scrapbooks on their respective desks.

As the clock ticked closer to 9:00, parents bearing children showed up at her door with more greetings and well-wishes for the upcoming school day. _His_ ex-wife, looking frazzled and rushed, dropped off their daughter at quarter to nine, much to her disappointment.

"Remember, Bree, Daddy's picking you up from school today, alright?" Elizabeth Cullen reminded her daughter in a conspicuous voice, knowing she would be heard just in case her daughter forgot. "Don't forget to tell Miss Rosalie, okay?"

"Yes, Mama," the little girl replied with a hug and a smacking kiss on her mother's cheek before running to place her things on her personalized hook in the coat closet.

The day went by normally as every other day had, but Rose found herself checking the clock every so often, hoping for the final bell to ring soon. Glad that her little ones had the final block of the day with the vocal music teacher Ms. Brandon, she sat at her desk and relived every moment she ever had with _him_, real and imagined.

There was the time he brought her hot chocolate one morning (at his daughter's insistence, he told her), and the time he licked whipped cream out of her belly button. The naughty smile he'd get on his face as he spoke her name over the head of her first-graders and the smile of contentment as they basked in the afterglow of a heated round of passion. She felt the familiar warm weight settling in her abdomen and she had to quickly shut her brain off before she did something utterly stupid.

In what seemed to be no time at all, two dozen pairs of little feet came stampeding back into the room, the broken sounds of the new song Ms. Brandon taught them today interspersed with the excited end-od-the-day chatter.

"Okay, desks first for last announcements before we clean up the classroom and get ready for home," She called over the racous din. Once the children settled, a few reprimands being doled out for the errant, disruptive giggles here and there, she reviewed what was to be done for homework, any notices that were to make their ways to parents, and a quick glimpse at what was on tomorrow's agenda. Though it seemed like a lot to sort through, her mind was only half concentrating on the task; the rest of her was focused on the bright blue eyes waiting for her outside the classroom door.

She helped in the clean up of the room, leading the class in several choruses of their tidy-up song, and then allowed them to grab their backpacks and jackets from the coat room. As the kids funnelled their way to the next room, she walked slowly to the classroom door. Her breath began to hitch, her heartbeat stuttered then took off as if trying to beat it's way out of her chest to him, and her skin suddenly felt like she had been drenched with a bucket of water.

_He_ was on the other side of the door, waiting.

She straightened her clothes and hair, hoping _he_ would notice the extra effort she had put into her appearance that morning. Taking a deep, measured breath, she plastered what she hoped was a confident smile on her face and swung the door open. In the hallway parents milled around casually, conversing with each other as they waited for their children. Immediately her eyes were drawn to him: he was facing away from her so she caught a glimpse of his shiny blonde hair. It took everything in her not to run over and comb her fingers through it.

She willed him to turn around and as he did, she caught a glimpse of his arm. It was raised slightly and as another parent moved out of the way, she saw that it was resting on the shoulders of a petite brunette woman. She inhaled sharply and could physically feel her heart cave in on itself inside her chest.

Through the din of her students behind her, a familiar little voice raise high amongst the rest.

"Daddy! Daddy!" little Bree Cullen cried, her tiny Dora The Explorer backpack bouncing as the matching windbreaker trailed behind her. "Daddy, you brought Esme!"

_What kind of name is __**Esme**__,_ she thought viciously as _he_ and the brunette woman moved forward together to greet the adorable little girl.

"Miss Rosalie!" Bree called, just before running back to pull her teacher forward. Mechanically, she followed, dreading the introduction to come. "Miss Rosalie, you have to come meet Daddy's _girlfriend_!"

She inhaled sharply, as if she were punched in the gut, when the sweet child referred to the brunette as her father's girlfriend. _It can't be_, she thought to herself.

"Bree, baby, calm down," _he_ laughed as they approached. "Miss Rosalie, good to see you, as usual."

"Dr. Cullen," she replied distractedly. She was too busy sizing up her competition to truly enjoy _his_ presence at the moment. Petite and beautiful in a classical, golden Hollywood kind of way, this _Esme's_ large hazel eyes, long brown hair, and almost delicate facial features made her hate the woman all the more.

"Miss Rosalie, this is my girlfriend Esme Evanson," _he_ said as he lifted his daughter up in his arms. "I figured I'd bring her around because she might be the one picking up Bree from time to time."

"Hi, it's a pleasure to meet you," the other woman said, her voice sweet and motherly. She hated that she instantly wanted warm to the woman just over the sound of her voice.

Mustering up all the determined resolve she had, she shook the _Esme_ woman's hand and smiled politely. "Hi, pleased to meet you as well." She turned to him. "Dr. Cullen, just make sure to pass by the office and fill out the forms so the administration knows that she's on the parent approval list."

"Sure thing Miss Rosalie," he said, and she swore she saw an extra twinkle in his eye as he said her name. With one hand firmly carrying his daughter, he swung the other one around _Esme's_ waist. "Well, we're off. We're gonna swing by the park before heading home. Goodbye, Miss Rosalie."

Pretending to be distracted by another child, she just waved her goodbye over her shoulder as she tried her hardest to hold her tears at bay. She refused to break down in public, refused to give _him_ the satisfaction, _any_ satisfaction. So she went about the rest of her afternoon on auto-pilot, barely acknowledging her colleagues' goodbyes as she walked stiffly off the campus to her car.

After a quick stop at the public library and a trip to the grocery store, she went home and cleaned her small apartment, made dinner, and stickered the corners of the day's art assignment. when the clock on the wall read 9:30 PM, she packed up her school things, padded over to her bedroom and got ready for bed.

As she brushed her teeth over the sink, imagined _him_ standing over her shoulder, watching her with lust in his eyes.

"Come to bed," _his_ image whispered. "I'm waiting for you."

_It doesn't matter,_ she decided as she gargled a mouthful of water._ It doesn't matter that there's another woman. He still comes to __**me**__ at night._

With a smug smile on her face she turned off the lights and slipped into bed with a smile and _his_ name on her lips.

"Oh, Carlisle, I missed you," she whispered.

And she closed her eyes as she waited to meet _him_ in her dreams.

.oO(***)Oo.

**If you liked this one-shot, please vote for it on the Obsession On-Shot Contest page:**

www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/u/2337304/Obsession_Contest

**Thanks! Love, Lulu**


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